Empty
by How-I-Became-The-Sea
Summary: It's been such a short time, and already the curse is working on the survivors as well. Some can't deal with the memories that are slowly disappearing. Some deal with it in other ways. Oneshot. SatoshixNaomi. Rated T for vague adult stuff.


**Hey guys! This is my first more mature fanfiction, so don't laugh. There will be vague sex, you have been warned.**

* * *

Satoshi had managed to lose track of the time that had passed since he escaped Heavenly Host. He had heard of people who voluntarily blocked off painful sections of their memories, writing over them as if they were files on a hard drive. For a long time now he had tried hard to replicate this, yet at the same time he couldn't. He wouldn't. There were four corpses that wouldn't let him, and he never stopped seeing their echoes in the four others still living. He would sometimes turn to where they should have been sitting, maybe to crack a joke in class, maybe to cheat off their answers. Often he was aware that they weren't next to him, but vainly hoped that they would appear as he turned, smiling as usual. And when he turned back, Ms. Yui would be teaching once more, as she always should have been.

They never were. They never would be.

Eventually, as if the curse was slowly taking effect on him as well, he began to forget things they had done together. Morishige's random photos, Mayu's soft, self-conscious voice. He even forgot Seiko's nickname for him, despite having heard it echo through the halls every day, much to his embarrassment. Now, could she greet him with that name one last time, he would kiss her in front of everyone.

With the gradual loss of all that remained of his friends, the realizations that he would never see them again hit him even harder. One day in homeroom, finding suddenly that he didn't remember Mayu's surname, he hastily excused himself from class and raced to his locker, fighting tears all the way. Reaching it, he slammed his fist onto to the metal surface with an angry sob, then fell against it and sank to the floor.

It was unfair. It couldn't be more so. No one escaped Heavenly Host, because no one escaped eternal punishment. It was enough to grieve over four horrible deaths, but having to do it in secret because no one remembered the dead? Dying in that school would have been better. They would all be forgotten together.

Satoshi's head was buried in his knees now, and he was sobbing openly. The hallway was completely empty, which was a mercy, but the boy's newfound phobia of being alone became more prevalent than his despair. He swallowed hard, preparing an excuse for the teacher, and stood.

Something yellow caught his eye as he stood. It was a note taped to his locker, one he had not noticed before. Wiping his eyes with his sleeve, he grabbed it and read silently.

'Meet me in the supply closet. Free period. We should talk. Please.

- Naomi'

* * *

Satoshi knew he was not capable of discussing what had happened without breaking down again. And that was something he could not let Naomi see. But still, he found himself entering the 2nd floor closet several hours later and closing the heavy door behind him.

Naomi's face was covered by shadow, but Satoshi could see what bad shape she was in. He_ had_ seen it, every day since they returned. Her hair was dry, unkempt, and she always looked so pale and vacant. She constantly wore black eyeliner, which he assumed now was the dark substance running down her face. It was worse for her than anyone, he knew. He thought maybe it was because Seiko forgave her before she could forgive herself.

Satoshi decided he could speak now, though Naomi looked so small in the corner that he feared she would lose it any second. "Naomi, I-"

"Shut up."

Naomi stepped forward and kissed Satoshi forcefully, grabbing the back of his shirt and pulling him closer.

This lasted a few seconds before his brain caught up, at which point he kissed her back in equal measure. He felt her hand in his hair and his on her back, and for one moment Heavenly Host was just a name, and forgetting no longer mattered because all else had ceased to exist.

Then Naomi shoved him against the closet door with a strength he had not thought her capable of, and tore open his shirt, kissing him all the while.

"Naomi!" Satoshi snapped out of his trance and shoved her away, mortified, hastily buttoning his shirt back up. "What..." This was certainly the opposite of what he has expected; he had been preparing to give words of comfort and understanding. The anger on her face now made those words shrivel up on his tongue, until all he could bring himself to say was, "This isn't right."

Naomi was quaking now, with rage instead of sadness. "What... was that?" she forced out in a quavering voice. Her fists clenched and unclenched. "Do you expect me to believe, after_ everything_, that anything else isn't right?! Look me in the eye and tell me that, Mochida."

Fearing her reaction, and still a bit dazed, Satoshi stood firm and repeated, "This isn't right." He had his own doubts, though, and looked down quickly lest she see it on his face.

"You wanna know what isn't right? Even I'm forgetting them now."

"I am too," whispered Satoshi. "But I-"

"All the pictures I have of us? Their faces are gone. Our time capsule? Gone. Everything we ever did together wasn't real. What does that make me? Us?" Now he could hear tears in her voice, but no longer knew what he would do to console her. Mostly, he feared her reaction to anything he did.

"I've wondered that too, Naomi. I have. But do you think they'd want us to break down now? They _were_ real, as long as we can just hold on to them, and you know what they'd say about this because they were your _friends_. Moroshige, Ms Yui, Seiko-"

"STOP!" she shrieked, covering her ears. "I can't stand it! I wish I could just forget!"

"You don't mean that."

"I do. I really do sometimes. It would be better than thinking of them, their faces, and feeling _nothing_."

Satoshi was too surprised to respond, but Naomi was not done. "I remember things we did together, pranks and games and whatever, and I know I how I felt then, but I have no emotion at all towards it. I'm just empty!" Waving her arms angrily, Satoshi thought about trying to constrain her, but remembered her strength from before and decided against it. Standing still now, panting from her outburst, Naomi whispered, once again desperate and anguished. "I just want to feel something again."

Satoshi racked his brain for any reason he could think of to deny her. Maybe it was because his memories were all of blood and horrible death and how it felt to kiss her, but he came up with nothing. In fact, he was shocked to find that he agreed with her. All this time, what he has wanted were not the memories of his friends, but the emotions that were connected to them. He was losing them all, and now so was she.

"...I know. I think I'll go crazy if I forget how I used to feel. I... I know." Hanging his head, Satoshi found himself fighting tears once again.

"Then help me," Naomi said. He looked up as he felt her hand on his arm. "We can, Satoshi. We can feel something."

Satoshi's bitterness was apparent on his face, yet he nodded in acceptance, and Naomi lifted his chin and kissed him, softer this time. Satoshi was quicker to respond, pulling her in almost fiercely. Both of their faces were stained with tears now, and they did not cease when Satoshi removed his shirt fully and let his entire life disappear once again.


End file.
